Anarchy In The Mojave - The Joker
by TheEvolutionist
Summary: (AU)... In a post apocalyptic Mojave, chaos and anarchy reign in New Vegas. You have the NCR, Legion, and Mr. House all conspiring against one another, and the Raiders, Powder Gangers, and mutated creatures all spreading chaos in Outer Vegas. One man stands amongst the anarchy. The Joker. A lone wolf who follows no rules. An agent of chaos, who has an agenda of his own.
1. Chapter 1

The Joker was taking refuge within a rundown and abandoned house, that honestly seemed to be deteriorating by the second. The horrid smell of dirt and dust infiltrated his nostrils harshly. But he didn't mind. Not one bit. He felt as if he had really earned this moment of peace, some time away from the "Wild Wasteland" for the night. The quality of things currently didn't really bother him. It was funny, really. The entire world was at the bottom of the pit, in a seemingly endless state of dystopia and anarchy. Life in this state was truly suited for _him_.

The Joker knew that civilization would soon collapse. That the 'civilized' people, when the chips were down, would eat each other. He was right. Right _all_ along.

He was seated on a rusty chair, cleaning the fresh blood from his trusty Bowie knife with his cloth. The clown had only been taking accommodation within this wreck of a house for the past night, using it as a temporary hideout. Mainly because The Joker took it upon himself to kill a few Fiends... Brutally. Mostly for fun. This had a big backlash, though. He now had a target on his back, and the Fiends were looking for vengeance for all the lives The Joker had taken from their crew of insane junkies. The Joker found his whole role as a 'fugitive' rather fun, _and_ amusing. Being chased by people who seemed to be even more mentally unstable then _he _was. The Joker found it incredibly exciting.

He glanced over at the items spewed out on the table in front of him, various miscellaneous objects were laid out. Standing out from the bunch was a radio, at first glance it was nothing special, but it abruptly let out a squeak of a fuzzy, inaudible voice. Curious, The Joker bent the antenna on the radio, fiddling with it, until he could get a clear signal. He pushed everything else off the table aside with his foot as he stretched his legs onto it.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to our program. This is Mr. New Vegas, and each and every one of you is wonderful in your own special way." _

The Joker chuckled to himself, "Mmm, tell me something I _don't_ know."

"_Now, I'm sure you're all aware of the band of raiders that are most commonly known as the 'Fiends'. Citizens of Outer Vegas are flocking to the Strip in droves amid a wave of terror caused by the raiders. Those who can afford passports say that the added security is well worth the price of admission, and strongly urge all of you to take shelter in New Vegas if you can. Keep that in mind, folks. This is Mr. New Vegas, and that's all for tonight. And here's a wonderful song to keep your minds at ease... _**Stars of the Midnight Range, Shiiiiining through the night..."**

The Joker put his head back at ease and closed his eyes, listening to the calming tune. "New Vegas, huh?..." He inquired to himself brazenly, falling into a deep sleep.

"_... _**Stars of the midnight range... Liiighhtt my way tonight...**"

A sudden bang suddenly made The Joker jump in shock, falling off the chair he was about to fall asleep on. He murmured to himself in frustration as he tightly gripped on his Bowie Knife with his gloved hand, licking his lips in excited anticipation. Whoever 'opened' the door obviously hadn't made the effort to come in stealthily.

He stood up quietly, walking slowly down the hallway, keeping an anticipated eye open for anyone feeling lucky who had _dared_ entered upon his current home. He stood there quietly, his brown eyes scanning the dark room that once appeared to be a _living _room. He craned his neck to the left. Nothing. And to the right. Nothing. The atmosphere was almost chilling, but The Joker found it... Exhilarating.

He could hear the loud exhales of someone slowly walking towards him, he snapped his head forward and found himself on the receiving end of a Varmint Rifle. Without warning, The Joker smacked the rifle out of the invaders hand, a large '**BANG**' echoing throughout the house as he did so, narrowly missing his head as he charged at the invader with full force, both of the men tumbling out the front door of the house and collapsing to the ground, dirt erupting from below as The Joker and the Invader scuffled, the invader with bulging eyes wriggling around wildly, trying to get of out of The Joker's reach.

The Joker threw a vicious punch towards the intruder, but his punch was blocked, and the invader retorted with an equally vicious punch, causing The Joker to grunt in pain as he fell off the invader, leaving him face forward in a pile of dirt. This only made The Joker grin. The invader quickly ran for the Varmint Rifle that had been knocked out of his hand previously, and The Joker slowly got up. Not in a hurry at the slightest. "Go on, go on," The Joker teased. "Get the Rifle. GET IT!"

The invader sprinted towards the rifle, anxiously fumbling with it as he picked it up. He aimed at The Joker and poorly shot, the bullet not even close to hitting him. The Joker slowly approached him. It was as if the invader was too drugged up to do _anything_ right. The invader once again put his finger on the trigger, his shaking hands unable to make him aim properly. He once again pulled the trigger, missing once again. The Joker sported a sheepish grin, and with a laugh, he swung his fist towards the invader, knocking him to the ground.

"Ahh," He licked his lips, "Now you've messed up, haven't you?" The Joker gripped on his Bowie Knife and lunged it towards the Invader's leg, digging itself into his flesh, a spur of blood springing out of his leg as the man screamed out in pain. The Joker then dragged the knife up and down through the man's flesh, a stifled cry loudly flaring from within. The invader's hands instinctively digging into The Joker's hand, leaving deep nail marks. The Joker snorted.

"Now, let's-let's see, uh, see who you are, shall we?..."

The Joker hadn't exactly had the time to identify who the man was beforehand, but now at a closer glance, he instantly knew which faction he belonged to. The Fiends. It didn't necessarily surprise him. After all, he _did _kill them... A _lot_ of them.

"So... Out for revenge, mm?" The Joker mocked, slowly taking out the Bowie Knife from the Fiend's leg. "I think you and I are going to have some fun together, don't you think?" The Joker proceeded to turn his knife upside down and hit him in the temple with the butt of his knife. Rendering the Fiend unconscious. "_Plenty... _Of fun."


	2. Chapter 2

AUTHOR'S NOTE

_Definitely not one of the best posts out of my small amount of FanFictions, but I'm glad that I can finally move onto more of the exciting bits that will arrive within this story. I don't really know how long I'll keep up with the FanFic, but be sure to leave a review or a PM on what you think so far._

* * *

The Fiend's eyes slowly flickered open. Excruciating pain bouncing back and forth between his skull. He yelled out in pain and gripped his head tightly, trying to make it stop. "What... What... WHERE AM I?!" The Fiend screamed, he wriggled around wildly, but found that his hands and legs were bound to the chair he was sitting on. He seethed furiously at the Joker.

The Joker grinned at him as he sauntered up to the Fiend, a sadistic smile plastered on his face. "You know... I'm just, uh, wondering... If you've, uh... Come alone. Is that the case?"

The Fiend remained quiet, a grimace evident on his dirty, bloodied face. "Fuck You." The Joker rolled his eyes dramatically as he wrapped both of his hands around his Bowie Knife, stroking the tip of the blade near his eye. The fiend could see bits of dry blood on the knife.

"Are you ready to answer my question?"

The fiend shivered in fear, and he nervously mumbled out, "N- …. No... No. I'm not telling you anything."

"You're a tough one, aren't ya?" The Joker chuckled, sliding his tongue across his mouth excitedly. "Let's see how long that lasts, hmm?"

The Fiend quietly whimpered to himself, but tried to maintain a strong tone in his voice as he spat out brusquely, "I've seen things you'd only dream of. You don't scare me you piece of shit."

The Joker simply scoffed in outrage. Was he really saying he'd "seen" things the Joker would only dream of? Obviously he didn't know much about _The_ Joker.

The Joker stared at him with an evil gaze, suddenly pulling his knife on him, the blade placed solidly against his mouth, drawing blood. The Fiend immediately tried to back his head away, but The Joker clinched the back of his head, pulling him closer so they were looking at each other face-to-face, the sharp blade slowly entering the man's mouth. "You want to know how I got these scars?" he whispered into his ear, his voice dangerously low.

His gloved hand curled tightly around the Fiend's head as he continued. "A few years ago... I was hired, as a uh, a mercenary... To find a girl that was abducted by raiders, much like yourself," the Joker paused for a second, exhaling. "The woman that hired me was a... distraught and depressed woman, who said that she would pay me handsomely, if... I were to recover her daughter," the Fiend shifted his eyes away from the Joker uncomfortably, and the Joker grabbed him, flinging his head forward as he stared at him with his cold, icy eyes.

"I got a lead on where she was. And me following that lead, it wasn't what it turned out to be. I was ambushed. Ambushed by _them_. I woke up, strapped to a chair, similar to your current predicament. I was confronted by a man, he knew why I was there." the Joker licked his lips, his voice dropping into an angry tone, "He said that killing me... Was too good. That killing me was an act of mercy. That my punishment had to be more 'severe'. So, a few hours later, me watching, they bring the daughter out, laughing while they do it. The man holding her pulls out a gun and pulls the trigger." The Joker's voice dropped into a gravelly tone, "They shot her here," the Joker shoved the gun into the fiend's neck. "Right there." The fiend started incoherently spouting off curses in fear. Praying to any God that there may be that he wouldn't be robbed of his chance to get another high off of psycho. The Joker stared at the man right in his eyes.

"One of them saw my fear. So they came at me with a knife," the Joker menacingly moved the knife further up the fiend's mouth, his eyes getting colder by the second. The Joker gestured to his smiling scars. "And they did... this... to me. But now I see the funny side. Now I'm always smiling!" The Fiend screamed out in fear, his screams slightly muffled due to the knife in his mouth, "THEY SENT ME TO COME! ONLY ME! ONLY ME!" He nearly burst out into tears as he continued, "they... They said they'd come to the house if I wasn't back by tomorrow!"

The Joker silently studied his facial expressions, the pathetic whimpering and crying. And the way he blurted out the answer, the Joker could tell he wasn't lying. He grinned. "Funny how, despite my story of courage, honour, and respect, you took nothing in. Show no fear, hmm?"

"What?" The Fiend uttered hoarsely, his eyes widening in fear, which quickly turned to anger.

"Uhh..." the Joker cleared his throat. "In words that someone of your... Umm, 'status' ?... can understand?... You're going to die." The Joker smiled, and paused. "Unfortunately."

The fiend's eyes bulged as he screamed. "But, I, I, I told you what you wanted to know! You son of a bitch! You son of a bitch!"

The Joker simply smiled, smacking his lips while strengthening his grip on the knife. He nonchalantly replied. "Why so serious?"

The Joker instantly thrust his knife upwards, the blade tearing through the man's cheek, blood erupting in every direction as the Joker backed off, watching the liquid flow. The life slowly draining out of the man's eyes. He stood there for around a minute or so, the utter horror and screaming that came out of the Fiend's mouth made the Joker observe him quite oddly. "You did me a solid," the Joker sardonically admitted. "So, I'm going to return the favour." The Joker slowly walked around the man, grabbing him by the head as he positioned his knife to his throat. And with one, tireless swing of the knife, the throat sliced the man's neck open. The blood slowly poured out onto the rusty floor and formed a puddle.

"Such a beautiful sight," the Joker remarked snidely, walking up to the Varmint Rifle and lunging it over his shoulder. The Joker scoffed harshly.

It was time to leave before more of those fools came looking for him. The Joker wanted to send a message with that body. He was sure the message would be sent as soon as they stumbled across his fine piece of work. He walked out of the house, wearily and reluctantly reminding himself of the lack of weapons, gadgets, armour, and... _fashion _that accompanied him. His purple suit was no more than a dirty, bloodied piece of garage, his make-up was fading away by the second, and he found his lack of weapons... disturbing. It was time to restock. The Joker gleefully danced out into the wasteland. He just couldn't _wait _to get his hands on some new toys.

The voice of the charismatic man he heard on the radio before being _rudely_ interrupted echoed in his mind. "_**New Vegas**_..."


End file.
